


And When I go Into the ground, [I won't go Quietly] They'll have to Bury me face down

by Living_Fast



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Author Projecting onto Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Author is a Technoblade Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Autistic spectrum Technoblade, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Child Soldiers, Death, Dragon Hybrid Phil Watson, Emotions, Execution, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Feral TechnoBlade, Fluff, Found Family, Fuck Canon, Fucking Angst out the ass, Gen, Ghosts, Happy TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), He's a sheep okay, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Wilbur Soot, I love writing, Ignoring Canon Again Pog??, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Its just not a main focus, Its probably there, LET HIM BE FERAL 2021, Look we all know this fact, Mute Technoblade, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Complaint, Past Child Abuse, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sick TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sign Language, Swords, Techno fuckin Dies for a few seconds bitches, Technoblade Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Totem of Undying, Undead Character?, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, With the way I write him?, and then everyone else Fuckin DIes, as always, at this point I should just put, big yikes, i'm late, it's cute, leave me alone, loss of life, no beta we die like wilbur, wow who knew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Fast/pseuds/Living_Fast
Summary: A bloody hoof print darkening his doorstep. Fury rising in him the longer he glares at the forms populating the area around the stand. He reaches for his door and meets his son’s best friend's eyes.Green eyes staring pleading at him, a new fading scar populating the bottom of his face. Phil’s wings spread in the small doorway, and he shoves the door close with a slam that rattles in his bones.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 42
Kudos: 685
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> L-Look, okay, I know this is late, like, late, late. But uh. Man- I've been sitting on this Idea for a long time. and okay, perhaps I should be finishing the other fic I have written, that's nowhere near complete and possible won't be, because I've rewritten it 3 times now from the same point. 
> 
> So, so have this instead, and uh- I'm going to vanish into the Void now. cool? Cool. 
> 
> me: I'm going to work on "In my defense, I wasn't supposed to be around this long"  
> also, me: Feral Technoblade execution arc go Brrrrrrrrrrrrr

His wing shook in the binds curled around them, staring down at the cage holding his impassive son, face blank- look incredibly bored with the situation. Glass still perched on his slightly upturned nose, and his crown nowhere to be seen. 

The piglin hybrid blinked lazily at Quackity’s screaming figure, Phil’s body was on fire. The dragon trying to claw it’s way to the surface, with heavy screams of  _ Mine,  _ perminating in his head. Phil bits into his cheek, k9’s tearing through the meat, and filling his mouth with blood. He grabs at the frame of his door. Glaring down at them all. 

Purple shines off the bars on the cage, and Techno glances at him. Eyes just as lazy; just as red as they’ve been for months now. The hybrid’s tongue darts out and drags across the top of his tusk. Before eyes are draggings across back to stare at Tubbo addressing the gathering crowd. Phil shifts forwards, ears twitching as Wilbur’s ghost traverses his downstairs. 

Punz drops down, laughing as he does, and Techno doesn’t move- the Piglin still standing just as lazily, swaying in place with the same lazy confidence he’s had since they first met. Lips twitching unconsciously as Punz’s crackles TNT in his wake. “Techno! Techno Look!” 

“ ‘ullo Ghostbur.” the Hybrid slid down to his knees, smiling gently at the ghost, who bounced as much as a Ghost could. Holding up the dark blue sheep. “I’ve named him  _ friend.”  _ Phil watched Techno soften completely eyes spin blue for a moment, before freezing on light pink. “That’s a good name.” Phil tenses as Techno swivels his head around to stare at the screaming mass of this- of this

The Dragon rears it’s head, angrily shredding Phil’s defenses for a moment, his wings tense. And his eyes pure purple for a long moment. Before he relaxes. Techno’s focus is on the group, not having seen his tiny meltdown. “I’m about to die Ghostbur.” 

The Ghost of his dead son stares up at Phil’s best friend, with blank white eyes, and an equally blank smile. “Oh.” The ghost’s grip on his new sheep loosens, and he stares ahead empty like. “Who will watch your Bee’s?” Phil’s heart breaks just a little more, the dragon stilling in the back of his mind, and it’s fit of rage spills. 

Leaving Phil cold, and tired. And staring at his Dead son. 

Techno simply smiles at the ghost. Tilting his own head, eyes curling into a deadly crimson before he stands back up at his full height. “I don’t know Wils.” 

“Fuck it! Pull the leaver Quackity!” Techno flinches, and Phil screams as the anvil’s base is yanked out of the way. A Smile painting this Fucked Army’s lips. 

The crack rattles all their bones, he can see it in the way Tubbo steps back terror slide across his face; the way Quackity’s smile slips for a long moment; He can see it in his Grandson- who lets out a chitter of fear. 

Blood splatters across the wood, far, and stains those standing too close. It splatters friend's wool and drips through Ghostbur like he’s air. It paints the area around the cage dark, and Phil’s reminded of how much Headwounds  _ bleed.  _

It pools under the Anvil, and under the pink-haired boy. 

His Friend's glasses broken and scattered across from the weight of the drop. 

Ranboo has stood frozen in fear for a long time now, and Phil chokes on a sob, tears spilling over his cheekbones, and down his throat. The dragon withers under his skin, screaming.

There are no shouts of victory that Phil is accustomed to after Executions, no gloating, no smiling faces. Even Punz has frozen, axe and Tnt held in position, face pale; and terror written across his features. They all  _ wait. Wait for something, wait for anything.  _

There’s a shattering of glass, a low amused chuckle. 

The anvil moves a groaning noise as it scraps the side of the bars. A pink-tinged hand grabs the top of the bars, and fear creeps into Phil’s heart, not for himself, but for those who stand too  _ close _ .

Ghostbur stands a few inches off to the side of the execution stand, and there’s such a blank look on his son's face. One that would have been raging by now, for a boy who is younger than he is. For a man who had only fought for his rights.

_ None of this would have happened.  _

The anvil is shoved hard, and the cage breaks. 

Techno stands on shaking legs in all righteousness fury of the God that lives under his skin, mouth pulls into a snarl, and the skin across his face is knitting itself back together. The shattered remains of a totem in his hand, Gold staining his hands, his wrist, his chin. 

Doomed to stay that way until he loses the stollen life. 

A golden line painted into his neck, and a snarl on his face. 

There’s a ripple of pure fear over the group, and the Dragon gives a low guttle growl deep in Phil. His wings giving a large twitch in their confines. He leans forwards as Techon’s mouth spins into a deranged smile, tusks and top fangs on full display. His tail was freed at some point, whipping behind him with sharp angry movements. 

He steps over the anvil, and Tubbo steps back. Phil‘s dragon preens.  _ Good, Good- Ours _ . 

Quacktiy steps forwards and Techno’s smile widens, showing off the back rows of his teeth. Blood and brain matter is stuck in his hair, blood dripping down his face, down his neck. Over his lips, standing his teeth. 

Phil’s binds around his wings snap under the pressure of them twitching. 

And The dragon’s scream of victory is past his lips before he can stop it. Chunking his sword from the balcony, watching it slide across the wooden docks that make up what’s left of Old L’manburg. 

Techno is after it like his kind chases after Gold, and the Pink of glowing blood-red eyes catch on the diamonds placed into the inlay of the hilt. Shinning off the Netherite’s sharpened to perfection edge. 

And Fundy is already running before the Blood God’s vessel is tearing through Quackity like paper. 

Swings wild and feral. Phil stumbles off the edge of the balcony before he can stop himself. The loud screeching of his ankle monitor, as he grabs the edge of his son’s hand, and the new collar around Friends neck. 

Pulling them away. Away, away- Wings spread, and he catches sight of Dream, just as Techno’s deranged laughter reaches them; as well as Fundy’s screaming. The crowd had scattered. Phil meets the smiling face of the mask and shakes his head. 

There’s silence in the air, and Ranboo stands untouched in the cranage. The enderman hybrid shaking in his place, hands curled around his stomach in a mimic of a hug. Phil moves towards him instantly, while the boy had aided in the prosperity damage to his home. It had become clear over the past few days of the boy's own abuse to L’manburgs treatment of Hostile Entity Hybrids. 

The boy is miles taller than Phil’s already staggering height, but they make do as he bullies the enderman softly into his home. The dragon cooing softly. 

Techno’s hooves make loud clacks as he rounds back around to the tiny not so sleep city. His movements are tacky and Stiff. Dream follows slowly behind, and there’s a gash across the blond man's chest. 

Blood red eyes settle on him, and Phil’s eyes flare a darker purple in response. They stare for a long moment before Techno dips his head, and he’s gone. As Tubbo comes spilling out of his house, and Quackity appears on the bed near the center of town. Fundy stands shakily at the top of Phil’s ladder. 

A growl erupts from his lips, one deep in his chest, and Fundy is moving out the door and crashing into Dream. Apologies tumbling unchecked from his lips as he chitters and chirps nervously. 

Ranboo curls behind the blue stained sheep curled up on Phil’s living room floor. 

A bloody hoof print darkening his doorstep. Fury rising in him the longer he glares at the forms populating the area around the stand. He reaches for his door and meets his son’s best friend's eyes. 

Green eyes staring pleading at him, a new fading scar populating the bottom of his face. Phil’s wings spread in the small doorway, and he shoves the door close with a slam that rattles in his bones. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a chapter two already half written I'm just lazy and didn't finish it enough to put it into this part. Mostly, Mostly because I uh. Didn't want to? or just wanted to post this, and Be a little clout farmer for like a single night, and then post the second part. 
> 
> Also, can we talk about the number of fics this fandom has with only lowercase?? Please Stop, it's not fun to read. Especially for a dyslexic person, there are so many fics in this fandom that look really good. But it's all in lowercase and my Dyslexic brain becomes illiterate when there's like no Fluncuation between sentences. Like holy shit. I only know how to read because of patterns and when the patterns leave. I am completely useless.  
> It's not cute, and it's far more frustrating than anything. Please for the love of God- I wanna read, not be visibly upset about the lack of Capitals. My brain Simply cannot Function. 
> 
> ANYWAY. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated as always, and I wrote this out in less than 4 hours. That's probably not healthy. It's not even that long and it's incredibly vague compared to my other works. Oh well.  
> (If I don't respond to your comment, it's because my dumbass brain can't think of anything. I appreciate All of them!!! and I love them all very much."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Checks my email to see if I've gotten an update to make sure I posted Chapter 1.* 
> 
> my email: Up to date. 
> 
> me: *Staring at chapter one in my works* You FUckin LiAR.

Techno drags Phil’s sword behind him in the snow, body twitchy and his head spinning. The effects of the totem sit heavy in his bones at the cost of a borrowed life. His headaches and the noise of  _ Chat  _ curling over each other doesn’t help. 

The lack of Carl is pressing against his chest, and the anger painted on Phil’s face, and his scream rattling in his ears. Techno marches on. 

His cabin stands cold, the lack of smoke from his chimney makes his already ice-cold skin burn. Build for the Nether and not the snow, despite how much he loves it. Techno swallows and fights a cough as the golden loop around his neck tightens slightly. 

The basement door is open, and there’s too many thoughts in his head for him to flesh out if he was the one who left it open. The migraine forming is a steady thump and the edges of his vision are blurry. He can’t tell if its from the cold anymore. 

Techno freezes in place as the form of his Friend's youngest son steps out of the basement doors and locks eyes with him. Blond hair is a speck in his line of sight, and his brain doesn’t catch up to himself before  _ Chat,  _ is spilling over his edges. 

Chants of Racooninnit, and Dadza’s baby. 

And Kill, kill, kill, kill,  _ kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.  _

Techno chokes, the thin band tightening again, as his basement doors slam shut. Holding a hand up to his mouth, and tears threaten to spill over as he tries to catch his breath. He stumbles into his own house, to stare at Tommy who was standing with fear in his eyes pressed against the chest along the back wall. 

They stood there for a long, long time. Before Tommy mumbled out a hello, that sent a spike of pain through Techno’s skull. He sucks air through his nose this time and tries to ignore the chants of death Rattling between his eyes. 

Techno could hardly get his vocal cords to work, but he works his jaw and instead dipped his head at the other. Tommy stared at him wide-eyed before stepping forwards. They regarded each other, Tommy with something dark in his eyes Techno doesn’t really like. Something that sits in Tubbo’s eyes when he thinks no one is looking. 

So with blurry and just getting blurrier Vision, Techno grabs gently at Tommy’s shoulder and gives him the tiniest of shoves towards the ladder that leads upstairs. Ignoring the boys confused set of cursing, which the  _ Chat,  _ fondly responded to in their own bout of swearing. 

Techno sways as he watches Tomm curl up on his couch, he was talking now; staring at the wall in front of him; and the  _ Chat  _ had died down enough that Techno should be able to hear the kid. But instead, he feels as if someones stuffed Cotten in his ears, and his mouth tastes like ash. His legs shake as he crosses the room. 

Grabbing the wood next to the fireplace, before laying it on the coals he never got to tend to this morning, and he stares at them. His mind is alive, but his eyes aren’t. He craves his glasses, and he craves to repeat today and hide Carl. Rip them apart before a Totem is the only thing keeping him moving. 

He wonders how Phil does, curled in front of his fireplace; with a 16-year-old curled up on his couch; with so much thick noise in his head even as it thumps with pain. And every breath hurts, large respawn servers are not meant for Totems. 

Techno sucks in a breath through his mouth, letting it slide across his tongue, and cool his teeth. He chokes when the rope around his throat, tightened painfully the cough that escapes him burns, and it tightens further. 

He covers his mouth and jumps when a hand shakily lies on his shoulder. 

Tommy’s worried blue eyes peer at him, and Techno shakes his head rapidly. 

Pushing the kid away with his free hand. “J-ju-just a seco- second.  _ To- Tom.”  _ he stumbles upon his feet and grabs the bucket before cough hard enough that a glob of golden spills over his lips and into the bucket. He spits and stares at it for a long time. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

The kid hovers around his shoulders, looks as bad a Techno felt. “Who did you kill?” Tommy’s voice was harsh and heavy. And Techno blinks, before glancing at himself in the minor. And horror fills his gut. “It's more of a wh- who Killed  _ Me.”  _

\--- 

Techno washed his hair three times, before realizing it was a lost cause; he puffs air out of his nose heavily, before grabbing the knife on the countertop; carefully cutting the thigh-length Pink curls to his shoulders. His hands shaking each time a pink set of locks populated the sink's counter. 

He brushed it off into the small trash can and blinked back tears as year's worth of care and growth vanished in seconds. He Pulled what was left up into a small bun on top of his head, a few damp curls escape. 

He reaches up and Touches his newly chipped tusk, biting back pain; when his thumb touches the top. Closing his eyes tightly when he catches sight of the fuzzy edges of his golden hands. 

A scar knits across the only half of his face that had been unscared. The skin discolored, and Techno  _ hates it.  _

_ Blood for the blood god  _

_ Blood _

_ Racconinnit _

_ Dadza??  _

_ Dadza  _

_ DAdza  _

_ Dad!  _

Techno pushes open the door ignore the urge to rip the gold permanently staining his skin off.

Voices bloom through his tiny cabin, and the blurry edges of his vision aren’t helping nor is the instant thump of the growing migraine. 

Climbing down the ladder and then down the stairs, Phil stands in his living room curled around Tommy, faced pressing into his curls, and wings curled around his son. Techno blinks sluggishly, trying desperately to finish putting together the rest of the shapes in the room. 

The shimmering figure is Ghostbur and so is the blue spot, that’s… that’s the sheep. Sheep. 

_ Friend!  _

_ Friend!  _

_ Ghostbur and The Sheep!!  _

Techno starts to swallow before  _ Chat  _ lets off warnings, and he puffs air out of his nose instead. Desperately wanting to swallow. Phil’s head shoots up, and he’s pulling away from Tommy with softly whispered words, and a kiss to his forehead. Tommy’s face screws up, tears are staining his cheeks, but he mumbles out something that doesn’t make it to Techno’s ears. 

Purple eyes stare at him curiously, and a pair of hands are twisting his face around, and studying his neck. Techno growls at him, deep and startled. Phil rumbles back at him instead, he knows that he’s making a face, but Techno’s eyes don’t want to behave. 

The Dragon’s grip softens. Before a thumb is brushing over his new scars. And a hand grabs a tiny strand of hair out of his face. “Let's get you to bed Teddy.” 

Techno nods numbly, leaning into Phil with a mumble of okay, throat protesting. “I’ll feed your impromptu guest. You just rest alright. Carl’s in his pen, we brought him back. It’s alright for now. Just get Some sleep.” 

The Piglin in his softens internally at the thought of safe and pack, rest and safe. Phil is in charge in his piglin brain, he always will be. So he curls up on the couch and grumbles when Tommy presses into his side but loops an arm around the teen. 

Who’s tracing the gold line on his neck carefully. 

The steady movement and the easy crackle of the fire lull  _ Chat  _ into silence. And Techno lets sleep pull him under. Curling tighter into the hold on the taller boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I lied. I posted both of these on the same night because Inspiration is a Bitch to keep a hold of because of SCHOOL THAT BITCH. 
> 
> I love all of you equally, but those Who comment. 100% my favorites. NOT saying I have favorites of those who comment- but perhaps. Perhaps. 
> 
> I need sleep holy hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that nothing I write can be under 3k words, alright- that's 100% the only reason I wrote more, not any other reason. Totally not because Techno Angst has been lacking lately and I'm starved for content. 
> 
> Uh, have this other installation, and then maybe a 4th? I don't know. I'm still trying to get a handle on Tommy and decided Ranboo needs to be here, despite the fact I desperately cannot write him. So I hope I did his few very short parts alright, and I hope Tommy Feels like an actual Character instead of a brick wall.

Phil watched as Techno fluttered sluggishly from room to room over the next few days, Tommy was right behind him half the time. It was almost impossible to get the tall teen to leave him alone. Especially when Tommy himself was expressing signs of being sick. More so than he already was.

Gapples had been hidden from both parties in the house, and Ranboo was more than happy to hoard them somewhere else. 

The Enderman hybrid had quietly tagged along with Ghostbur and Phil when Phil finished packing up his things and leaving. A smashed ankle monitor is the only evidence left that someone lived in that house besides Fundy. 

Dragon growling lowly at the lack of Ghostbur floating around, his blue sheep instead curled under the small table. Blinking up at Phil and sometimes giving off tiny noise in demands of pets. Which Tommy gave into instantly, with small giggles that Phil had desperately missed. 

Techno was almost completely non-verbal, and while he had been since The Revolution since the crater that is L’manburg was made. He at least still spoke somewhat to Phil. Now he hardly says a thing, besides small choked out mumbles of words. 

Phil’s dragon snarls angrily. The thin line around his neck is the terms of Dreams server. In a hardcore World, Techno would walk around wearing the Stains on his hands, but not the circle around his neck. 

Dream’s World demands Death in any form of retribution, whether it be by someone else’s hands. Or by the object used to save yourself. 

Brushing his fingers along the back of the couch, and staring softly down at Tommy’s shaking form. The boy has steadily gotten sicker over the past few days, a fever that comes and goes with vigor. Sharp and leaving him bedridden and twitchy. 

Phil glanced over at Ranboo who was chattering quietly to Edward. Techno hasn’t come down yet, and Phil didn’t think he would. He could hear him coughing all night. 

They all could. 

“Tommy?” Glassy blue eyes peered up at him, and Phil reached down and ran his fingers through sweaty blond curls. “I’m going to grab you a health potion, and some water. Do you want anything to eat Babe?” He slid down to a crouch and smiled sadly at his son. 

With the slight shake of his head, Ranboo’s eyes were on them; Phil’s wings gave a tiny shake. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” 

Passing the tall child curled into a ball on the floor, and ruffling Mismatched hair as he passed. Green and red flickered and stared past his face. 

Phil smiled mutely at him and swept around the kitchen with practiced ease. The tiny cabin was built to accommodate him and his wings. Larger spaces than needed, taller ceilings. If anyone paid any attention they’d realize Techno was truly shorter than Tubbo, and only wore a set of specialized boots that made him taller. 

The shelves were taller than they needed to be. The only evidence that a hybrid far more comfortable in small spaces was the attic floor. The room had a low ceiling that Phil had to duck to move around in, a desk that was set at an odd angle, a mound of pillows and blankets tucked under it. 

A shitty attempt of a dugout. One that was hardly used, and only populated the Piglin hybrid when he was hurt or upset. 

Phil grabbed the half-empty potion from off the top shelf. Pushed off on his toes, and his wings spread wide to keep him balanced. Refilling a bottle of water and grabbing a piece of bread out of the box sitting on the counter. He brushes back across the room, and Tommy was sluggishly pushing himself up into a sitting position. Scrubbing at his face, Phil rumbled softly and sat down on the floor before handing his son the bottle of water. 

He watched as Tommy eyed the healing potion sitting on the floor, but took the water bottle with shaky hands. Phil nodded and smiled at him carefully. After about half of the small bottle was gone, Phil takes it from him and hands him the sweet potion, the boy swallows a mouth full before he’s handing it back to Phil. A smidge of color returns to his cheeks, and he offers the bread. Tommy takes it and naws on the edge with less than enthusiasm. Phil ruffles his hair softly, before stretching out into a standing position. 

“I’m going to check on Teddy. You two alright for a while?” Ranboo nods a few times, “Yep!” and Tommy grumbles out something around a month full of bread. 

Phil snorts and the dragon coos softly. 

Climbing up the stairs and then up the small ladder, the attic was dark and cold. Despite the chimney running through it. Techno’s bed was unmade, void of blankets; and all that was left was the thread worn pillow. 

The desk in the corner was spilling over with blankets from underneath. And Phil sighed quietly, crossing the threshold, sliding into a cross-legged position on the floor. 

A small thick growl greeted him, as did Dark blue eyes peering at him. The gold on his neck shining in the dark. Phil rumbled slightly in response to the thinly veiled threat. Letting his wings fall into a relaxed position. 

He leaned forward and laid his palms on his thighs. Waiting. 

Techno’s tail whipped out across the floor, smashing into Phil’s arm, before curling around his wrist. He flicks the appendage, the pink fur on the end fluffing before it was yanked back under the desk. 

It was a statement to how bad the Hybrid felt if his tail was out. Phil slid backward slightly, and Techno sluggishly crawled out from under the desk. Short pink locks falling in his face. 

Phil twitched at the sight of bruises down his neck framing the gold, as well as the new set of gold stains around his lips. 

Grabbing softly at the back of the other's head, pressing his forehead against his Friend’s  _ (son’s) _ . Techno relaxed into the hold and melted into Phil’s lap with a short puff of air. 

“Let’s go downstairs- get some food in you,” Techno grumbled in response, standing shakily to his feet. Before scrubbing at his face, Phil stood after him. 

\---

Phil watched Techno slide to the floor next to the couch, Tommy instantly going to shove carefully at the other head. The teen looked miles better with Something in his stomach and the potion doing its job. 

Techno’s lips lifted slightly, exposing top k9’s before a short growl escaped him. Tail sliding against the ground in short-tempered movements. Tommy rests his hand on top of Techno’s head and doesn’t move it, dark blue eyes cut over to him- before they close partially. Phil watches his two youngests lean into each other, he grabs an apple and slices it into pieces. 

If Teddy can keep it down or at least swallow it, then dinner might be something solid. If not, then Phil would make a plain soup, for the two who looked far too pale then healthy. 

The Piglin regarded the apple slices with narrowed eyes but nipped slightly at Tommy’s who napped one off the plate before Phil could finish handing it to him. Raising an eyebrow at the two, Techno’s bared teeth, and Tommy’s fluffed tail. 

The raccoon Hybrid looked visibly pleased with himself as he bit into the fruit. Techno held the plate in his hands now, and Phil moved around the room, pulling things out of cabinets. The Piglin who normally would have already devoured half the apple, but now he stares at it like it’s foreign. 

Ranboo slid closer to the couch, quietly asking Tommy a question. Phil sets about making soup while prepping two stakes for Himself and The enderman hybrid. 

Sighing quietly, the dragon curling in his mind- upset at the lack of Wilbur. Who would normally be sitting on the other side of Techno tugging the shorter into his lap, and batting at Tommy’s hands. 

Now it's just techno staring at a Plate of fruit, Ranboo trying desperately to get Tommy to talk to him, while the blond played carefully with pink curls while crewing on the edge of an apple slice. 

Phil swallows thickly, what has his family become? 

A group of people, that’s all they are anymore- he glances back at Techno who’s got three fewer apples on his plate, and he glances up at Tommy. He's got both hands in the air, but his mouth is firmly shut. Ranboo sits in what’s supposed to be Wilbur’s spot, or sometimes Tubbo if he wasn’t curled up next to Tommy on the couch.

They are a set of strangers, who finished growing up under Phil’s roof- under his care, he stares down at the shiny metal of the pot. Swallowing down tears. 

Wilbur’s dead, hardly a  _ ghost  _ of what he was, Ghostbur is never as Wilbur was- and the ghost will never be. To soft-spoken, he hardly fights with Tommy- too nice to Techno, too  _ soft around the edges.  _ Phil’s Wilbur was brash and liked soft things, but not being soft. Phil’s Wilbur was loud when he wanted, and quiet at best. Phil’s Wilbur was as chaotic as his brothers and just as wild as Techno. Phil’s Wilbur never hid the fact he was a sheep Hybrid, ears proudly on display, and tail free. Phil’s Wilbur could almost always be found stumbling along somewhere causing Havoc with Schlatt, with Tubbo and Tommy in tow.

Tommy’s quiet, scared beyond his years; and can’t say Tubbo’s name without looking ready to cry. His skins far tougher than it needed to be, and his voice far too loud. Tommy was loud, but never look at me,  _ I’m here still  _ loud. Phil’s Tommy was giggly and full of tired chaos only teenagers can possess. Phil’s Tommy was attached at the hip with Tubbo and carried around a Nametag in his back pocket of their late barn Cat. Phil’s Tommy was soft and loyal to every damn rock block, and he’d figure a way to climb around it, he’d smash through it if he had too. Phil’s Tommy valid everything his brothers said, and understood that Hero Worship was never the way to see them. 

Techno, Techno was harder to remember as young. Techno was wild from start to finish, with gnashing teeth, and thick growls. There's a set of scars along the inside of his wrist from when he met the 21-year-old, at 16, a row of teeth marks. Fully feral, and spent years in between fighting arenas, or curled up on a Hypixel admin’s couch. Phil’s Techno followed Wilbur around when he realized the older Teen always had soft sweaters on, and would let him hold the sleeve. Phil’s Techno liked to be Called Teddy and sat with Tommy- who always would wait carefully as he attempted to form words he’d never spoken before. Phil’s Techno liked small spaces and hardly carried a sword. Phil’s Techno was a soft type of Feral that they tamed with Soft sweaters, and Patient looks. 

They are boys, his boys, and the Ghost. Where not  _ Phil’s.  _ And perhaps that’s why the dragon was settled with, outliving his Oldest son, his oldest  _ friend.  _ Because while he finished raising them, he was never  _ Dad.  _ He was  _ Phil,  _ the guy who took care of them. The kid was only a few years older than them. 

Glancing away from the now half-full pot of water, he blinked at the empty plate sitting on the counter, and Ranboo half in Techno’s lap, the taller enderman’s upper half sprawled across the piglin’s legs. Tommy half off the couch, a loud laugh escaping his lips; half punctuated by a cough. 

Techno’s face was blank, always giving nothing away; but his eyes were Dark blue, and if anyone looked hard enough they’d realized there was fondness shining in the depths. 

\---

Techno pressed his hands against his face, as Ranboo and Tommy ran around; chasing after both each other and the dog,  _ Em,  _ that had followed him back from L’manburg. Dragging his hands back through his hair, before leaning back against the wall. Tommy screamed, giggled, and an enderman like chirp dragged his attention back to the three. Ranboo was lying with his back in the snow. Wearing a small set of Leather Armor to keep his skin from getting wet, with Tommy sprawled over top of him, Em was barking- low noise, her white tail a blur against the snow. 

He glanced over at the blue sheep Phil was carefully leading across the snow, the man’s green and white bucket hat a stark contrast to the rest of the area. He won’t lie at the relief of having him insight, but he cannot figure out if it's because of his need to know where the people his mind fumble around with the word pack are, or if he’s afraid something is going to come out of the woods and burn what's left of his safety to the ground. 

This time his sharp words won’t escape, he won’t be able to frustrate Quackity to a blubbering mess of Shouts, or Tubbo into demanding a better outlook. He can hardly breathe or swallow. Let alone speak. His grasp of Sign language is a lot looser than it used to be, after years of hiding behind bigger words, and longer more thought out sentences. He’s tried to forget he used to only speak with his hands. 

A piglin thing, communication through grunts and meticulous practice signs. A human’s language, that slid through the cracks and trickled down into Hell. Most Piglin’s use some type of it, but not all. 

Techno was only lucky that the man who came to pick him up after the busting of the Illegal fighting pit he’d be earning his meals at was a man who was familiar with it. He breathes through his nose sharply and fights the urge to swallow. Instead spitting into the snow. Em wanders her way over to him, clearly tired of the boys who were now chunky large clumps of snow at each other with reckless abandon. 

Phil gave the two a wide berth and stepped up to his side, the dragon hybrids unnatural warmth instantly making Techno feel 100% better. Made for the nether standing in the snow even with multiple layers never did any good. He sighed a simple Hello, at the other man. Who was opening the gate to Carl’s pen, the horse giving an undignified snort as the small blue sheep toddled his way into the haystack on one side and promptly laid down. 

Snorting softly and letting out a grumble in his chest, Techno watched Ranboo plow through sets of snow before he and Tommy went tumbling again. 

He scanned the edges of the horizon, his house set up in ways that would show if anyone came too close, or was even coming this way. It was clear, but it set his nerves on fire anyway. People knew where he was, and it was terrifying. 

Especially with the boys here, with Friend here, with Carl here. With  _ Phil  _ here. 

The  _ Chat  _ was a present quiet mumble at the back of his head, and it was no reason for them to be loud, and they liked Phil, a present chatter of  _ Dad  _ when he was around a quiet chatter. They liked Ranboo well enough, and Tommy- Tommy was something that grew on them. 

He bit his tongue and swallowed, closing his eyes as a tightness threatened to crush his windpipe. Phil’s hand rested on his shoulder as he opened his mouth to let air escape, and then to suck in tiny breaths. “You alright Mate?” 

Giving a tiny nod, and he feels his tail curl around his ankle, lifting his hand in a shaky thumbs-up. Whipping at his mouth, and waving over his shoulder. Giving the sign for  _ inside  _ with shaking hands, and heading up the stairs to his door. Phil mumbled out something that didn’t reach his ears. 

Pushing open the door, and waving at Edward, who gave a tiny warp in response,  _ Em,  _ darting around his legs, and closer to the fire and the towering enderman who reached out to run a large hand over white fur. The dog sliding into a sit, her tail giving large thumps on the ground. Tongue rolling over of her mouth, ears pressed against her head as she leaned into the very gentle scratches. 

Techno watched amusedly, as he pushed the door shut carefully. Staring down at his boots, covered in snow and mud, signing carefully. Sliding into a small crouch to untie to mess of ties, and shucked one-off with far too much aggression, his hoof ached. With little care, he dropped one and grabbed another. 

The process was the same, it would always be the same. Techno grabbed the edges of his cloak, his torn and ripped red cape abandoned for a soft icy blue, one that was thicker and far better suited to keep a nether creature warm. He flopped sideways on the couch, which recently had become Tommy’s bed, burying his nose in the fluff around the edges, and let his eyes flutter close. 

He hardly moves as the big-wolf dog climbs up next to him, a fluffy heater. 

\---

Em’s cold nose pressed against his cheek and he reached out sluggishly to rub at her ears, her kind brown eyes staring at him. He flickered his gaze to the right and sniffed. Voice floated around the room, and he was beginning to realize he took a nap, rather than just laid down for a minute. 

Pushing himself up, keeping a hand on Em’s head; and blinked sluggishly at Tommy sitting curled into Phil’s side. They were sitting near the fire, and he twisted around to see the sun had long gone down. Scrubbing slightly at his face, Em’s tail wacked against the floor in though thumps,  _ Chat:  _ chittering away about how cute she looked. 

She licked his hands before she was sliding between Phil and Tommy with a short boof. 

Every member in the house shushed her gently. Even Edward, let out a small hiss that sounded remotely like a sh, sound. Several eyes landed on him, and Techno gave a tiny weak wave from his position half sitting, half laying on the couch. “Oh, did she wake you up?” Not wanting to risk damaging his voice even more, not quite ready for that; giving a short nod, signing Yes absently as he rose to his feet. 

Stumbling slightly on his first steps, a thurm of the beginning of a migraine at the back of his skull; and squinted in the two blond’s direction. The edges of his vision were far more blurry than they had been when he went to sleep. Em pressing herself to the back on his legs, before she was scampering off to where Ranboo was sitting at the table. 

He swallows without thinking, and the instant tightness has him coughing, grabbing at his chest in pitiful attempts to get air around the golden rope around his neck. Hands are pulling him to the floor before he can trip over his feet and fall. Fingers running down his spine, and Techno hacks, it burns his throat, tears spilling unchecked down his cheeks. His lungs burned, and in an instant, the Circle let go. 

A thick cough has him spilling a new glob of golden into his palm, this one speckled with Blood. 

He stares at it for a long moment, head pounding from the lack of oxygen, and he blinks several times. Desperately trying to get his eyes to function, a towel takes the gold from him, and a warm rag is cleaning the gold around his mouth. 

_ Chat  _ is silent as they possibly can be, several voices standout in upset chatters. The normal few that chant for the Blood God, are quiet. 

There is a price for his Totem, Wings curl around him, and small hands curl around his own. He leans into the holds of his Brothers and attempts to get his breathing back. 

_ And the price was killing him.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long time, I Finally exposed myself for always giving Techno a tail, but he keeps it tucked into his pants all the time, so no one really knows he has it. Which is Hilarious to me, and now I want to do something with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, I didn't have school today, so I finished this... So um. Yeah. 
> 
> I also changed a tag, so that's fun. I mean, not really?

The sewers when thick, empty, hardly used- clearly not attached to the main city anymore. Tommy hopped between the sides, careful to duck on the lower handing edges. Teddy’s form farther up ahead, silent except for the few clattering of stones splashing into the less than clear water. 

Tommy trips slightly in his haste to catch up with his brother, catching himself on the wall before jogging to catch up. “I still think this is a bad idea. For the record.” Dark blue eyes cut to stare at him, his steps steady and purposeful. If Tommy was Wilbur he’d be counting the steps for Techno. How many turns they’d taken already. (It was once, and it was 40 steps so far, but that was Tommy’s steps, and those had been jumps) 

But Tommy isn’t  _ Wilbur.  _

The other hybrid’s eyes fall back to the endless tunnels ahead of them, and Tommy swallows; twisting to look away from the other face. “Just thought you’d want to know,” Teddy grunts at him, and Tommy rolls his eyes. Running ahead, despite the fact he still isn’t quite sure even where they are going. 

Techno’s grunt draws his attention backward, he’s standing at a turn Tommy passed. His cheeks heat up as he hops the river and walks back. The piglin was glaring at him slightly, and Tommy was again reminded of his lack of glasses, and shame burned in him for the reason of their absence. 

He lets the other lead again, his ears pressing tighter against his head. Letting out a small chitter, and Techno’s own mimic of it makes something thick boil in the back of his head. The drawing sounds of Dogs barking puts him both on edge and excites him. 

Lips pulling into a smile, brushing past Techno, (108, 109, 110, 111) the change in the barks is drastic when they notice it’s Him who stumbles into their hole instead of someone else. And it only grows in excitement when Techno follows. Slower, quieter. (89, 90, 91, 92) 

He tackled as Fossil pressed his entire weight against him, almost sending him to the floor. The overly large Wolf-Dogs were used to the stronger, slightly steady form of Techno, rather than Tommy’s beanpole of a stature. Still slightly malnourished. Having been too sick the past few weeks to wander around behind Techno. To act as a voice in case something had happened. 

Teddy is giving out stakes he’d pulled from his bag, signing  _ sit  _ over and over again. He rubs carefully at each pair of ears and twists around if he’s pushed at from behind. The few small pups crawling around. Tommy lets out a squeak of excitement and slides down into a seat. Fossil presses his head against his shoulder as he sits. 

Pups climbed into his lap, still large, but small when it came to the full-grown bulk of their parents. But they were small enough to fit, even just spilling over slightly into Tommy’s lap. He dug his hands into the fluff, pressing his nose into a white scruff of a pup he believes is named Noah. Excited yips and slobber covered hands. 

He sits there basking in the warmness that had escaped from his grasp for months, something that still sits in the back of his mind with Dream’s cold form standing on the beach of the forms of ruined party decorations. Tommy swallows and breathes in through his mouth. His lungs rattle in his chest, and a wet cough burns in his throat. 

Fossil’s head moves from his shoulder, and Noah is slowly losing his place as Tommy’s snuggle buddy to another wiggly pup. The warm figure out what he knows is his brother’s legs stand at his shoulder. And Tom wonders how long it had been since someone stood at his back instead of him standing at someone else's back. 

It makes him feel safe. To know that he’s there, even in this pit of dogs ready to fight tooth and nail for them. Tommy runs his hands over Noah’s head, and a pink tongue licks at his fingers. 

Teddy doesn’t move, not until Tommy pushes the new dog out of his lap; and rises to his feet. Blue eyes stare at him, and the weight of their choices lay on Tommy’s shoulders. Even with the scar that marries his brother’s face. 

He wants to scream at Tubbo for the things he’s done, he follows the piglin hybrid down another set of tunnels; he wants to hug Tubbo, and he wants to hit him. Tommy swallows and lays his eyes on where the Bruises and Golden rope tie around his neck. Hidden under the thick layers of coat, cloak, fluffy collar, and a turtle neck. 

He knows that the after-effects are killing his brother, and he can see in some of his more frantic movements that Techno is preparing himself for that every time he starts coughing just a little too hard, for just a little too long. He knows Phil has started counting the seconds when he thinks no one is paying attention when He thinks Tommy and Ranboo aren’t looking. 

Tommy knows, Tommy  _ knows  _ there’s going to a moment when the count goes over 85. He doesn’t like thinking about what comes after. 

Bouncing on his toes, noticing that the set of ladders they were near was the one that went into his old home. “Techno Here.” The piglin turned to look at him before following him up the ladder. Tommy pretends he can’t hear him struggling to breathe at the top, and marches forwards into his old home. 

Connor stood there, watching the two of them with wide eyes; and Tommy’s heart dropped.  _ Fuck.  _

\---

Techno watched as Tommy stood frozen at the sight of Tubbo, whose face was pale and looked on the verge of Tears. Everything in him wanted to abandon this stupid hostage situation, and drag Tommy back home and never leave again. He hides the growl in his throat as Tommy stutters through the end of the conversation. 

Tubbo’s eyes are wide, “You- You’re alive?” his hands were reaching forwards slightly, and Techno let the budding growl slide past his lips, anger in his mind.  _ Chat  _ an angry mass behind his eyes, the permanent thump in his skull; only amplified by their anger. Connor was yelling something, and Techno burned. His throat ached, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. 

Tommy’s hand is curled suddenly around his wrist, and diamond colored blue eyes are looking down slightly at him. “Techno, Weapons.” He blinks at his brother, before- steadying the words in his mind, and signing at a faster pace than he normally did. He wants his crossbow or even his sword. Phil’s own sword hangs heavily at his hip, unbalanced for his height, and not fit for his hands. 

He watches as the few people gathered to turn to stare at him, and Techno narrows his eyes, trying to not look like he was squinting. Tommy spilled the words with such false confidence, the words too smooth, too liquidly, he sounded like Wilbur. 

He’s reminded of his brother’s Ghosts Jarring absence. Techno shifted and glared over at Tubbo when he made a point that Connor wasn’t even a L’manburg Citizen. Tommy’s mimic of Wilbur’s smooth-talking was falling into stumbles. 

And he desperately wishes that he had the confidence to talk. That the fear of choking to death wasn’t stuck to the back of his teeth like Carmel, he puffed air out of his nose and snapped his teeth impatiently. 

Tubbo flinched, and _chat_ clattered with excitement. He thinks that where his dogs lie, chat would be a lot like them if the wolf-dogs weren’t so cuddly, friendly. Crawling over each other in an attempt to be heard, snarling, biting, screaming, shouting- crying, wailing. Demanding, demanding. Again and Again. 

They’d tear him limb from limb if they could. 

Connor is fighting for his worth as a human more than Tommy is, who has gone suspiciously quiet. Fundy was standing next to Tubbo a second ago. 

The Fox hybrid comes back down the path, holding Techno’s things. Two of his things. He latches his fingers around the base of his crossbow as soon as it held out, and he’s pushing Connor forward in the time it takes for  _ Chat  _ to remind him not to breathe too hard a few seconds too late. 

The cough aches and he swallows it, mouth full of gold; and the distinct metallic taste that can only belong to blood. Tommy’s pulling him away something else in his hands. 

Techno’s mind spins- His chest heaves for air he cannot give it, and everything hurts. He’s numbly aware that Tommy has pulled him back down to the dogs, and has curled around him. A hand running through his hair in a terribly familiar mimic of Wilbur and his calloused hand. 

He sucks air in through his mouth and lets himself cough. He coughs hard enough the gold sitting in the back of his throat splatters the floor, and he gags. 

The golden circle tightening _a_ _threat_ , he spits. 

Stares at the blood pool in the mess of gold and bile. 

_ A promise _

\---

Phil watches the horizon, he watches Ranboo sit with Em curled half in his lap, and tuck himself against Edward. Phil waits. He waits, and he waits when it gets dark, and he waits when Midnight strikes,  _ and he waits.  _

Em sat outside on the porch after a while and refused to come in the house. The big Burly Wolf-Dog, blending in with the horizon; his heart hammered in his chest the moment the two crossed the small ridge. Phil’s wings twitched, and he stepped down onto the top stair. 

Tommy was in front, he noticed that instantly the closer they got, his taller frame compared to Techno’s shorter one. He’s holding on to Techno’s Pickaxe, and Phil pushes open the door the second they hit the bottom steps. Ranboo was curled up asleep on the couch and had been for a while, but now he was sitting up and staring at the pair of Phil’s brothers. 

Techno was far paler than he had been when they left, and Tommy had tears stains on his cheeks. Phil unlatched Techno’s cloak, and hung it on the hook- giving him a tiny push towards the fire, and watching him go with tilting steps. 

He turned to find Tommy, the younger boy had dropped his own somewhat lighter coat on the floor and was in the process of shucking off his boots. His sneakers having been soaked on the first night in the cabin. “Toms?” Bright blue eyes glance at him before his eyes dart back to the shoe he was pulling off his foot. 

Phil slid down to his knees and finished working the boot off, Tommy stared at him from under blond bangs. He reached forward, grabbing the boy; and pulled him close. Wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face into curls. Tommy's arms clutch at him just as tight, and Phil coos softly, letting the rumble vibrate in his chest. 

They sat there for a long moment, before Tommy pulled away, scrubbing at his face again. Blue eyes were full of tears, and a ball of fury that Phil hadn’t seen in a long time. “I  _ Hate  _ him, I do. I cannot- I  _ Hate- how dare-”  _ Phil blinked, Oh Tommy. 

He brushed tears off his cheek and held his face in his hands. “Honey, you don’t. You’re upset with him, Yo- you Don’t  _ Hate  _ Tubbo.” Tommy pulled his lips back exposing his set of K9’s he kept to himself for the most part. His ears twitching on the side of his head, pinning themselves flat. 

Techno let out a grunt from across the room, and Phil glanced up slightly, the Piglin’s eyes were glued on them with a slight Squint. Ranboo was staring at them as well. “I  _ Do,  _ I, all he’s done since-  _ Everything,  _ He’s just caused  _ Hurt,  _ It’s Not Fair! I’m the  _ Selfish one,  _ I’m- I’m the  _ Liar,  _ But he’s never Cared about me  _ Anyway!”  _

He pulled out of Phil’s hands, eyes lit with fury, and tears painting his cheeks. “Wilbur, for all his  _ shit  _ choices, Would have Never  _ Exiled  _ anyone. He would have never Fucking,  _ Fuckin- Executed  _ someone.” The raccoon hybrid’s lips were pulled into a snarl, Phil rumbled, he understood his little brother's frustrations, he understood, he  _ Got it.  _ Techno had moved across the room. 

Phil reached for Tommy, the boys were always a powder keg ready to explode. Sharp minds, loud voices, competitive. Nothing was to get in their way when they were after something. Wilbur blew, popped his top, and took his country with it. 

Techno was a ticking time bomb, Phil was always ready for the boom, the moment that Techno took the world with him on his way down. 

But Tommy, Tommy was attached- angry, full of life so much it hurt. He loved, and he gave. He gave, and he gave. And Tommy batted at Phil’s outreached hands, and he glared at the wall. Standing staggering to his feet. Blond hair falling the rest of the way out of his tiny bun. “I’m  _ Tired  _ of being everyone's  _ second  _ choice. I’m tired of being the  _ liar.”  _ Ranboo made a tiny warp sound. 

“You’re my first choice Tommy, you kept me out of trouble despite the fact that I took part in burning George's house. You aren’t  _ Selfish.  _ You aren’t a  _ liar.”  _ Techno was staring at them, and Tommy’s face was covered in tears. “He  _ Didn’t  _ even visit  _ me.  _ I- I thought he-” Phil watched the bomb’s timer reset, as Tommy crumpled, a sob heaving from his lips. “He said he  _ cared. He’s _ , He’s The  _ liar.”  _

Techno scooped him up before Phil could, the shorter, curling around him, hands on either side of his face. Neither was speaking, and Phil watched as Techno silently managed to get his little brother to calm down slightly. Tucked against the floor, and pressed against the back of the couch. The golden remains on the totem tied around Techno’s neck an unnatural shin against the other's clothes. 

The enderman hybrid’s eyes were foggy, a form of his own tears sliding down his face. Phil rumbled deep in his chest and grabbed for the inhabitants of the tiny cabin. Wings tucking them all to his chest. 

\---

Ghostbur watches, blue spilling down to stain the snow, the ghost watches his brother’s that he hardly remembers anymore, curl up on the floor. He just wanted more blue, because- Because...

He grabs it up from the snow, despite the fact it burns his fingers slightly, his palms burn and flicker out as he holds on to the blue stained snow. It was dripping through his nonexistent fingers. His sweater doesn’t move despite the wind picking up.

He steps forwards and stares through the window at Friend curled up under the table. Ghostbur steps away from the Cabin and slides in between the tree’s, he doesn’t move even when Phil’s rumble is loud enough to be heard outside the tiny home. He stands in the snow, lets it eat slowly at his existence, and  _ waits.  _

He  _ waits. _

_ He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for anymore.  _

\---

Techno presses his fingers against the scar on his face, close to the mirror, and he blinks. His outline is blurry. But the scar stands out far more than it should, he runs his finger down the edge that separates the two sides. 

The more he feels at it, the more he notices how ragged the edges truly are. His nose is missed for the most part, except there’s a tiny spider web of raised skin. He dug his fingers into the meat of his cheek and fought off the set of tears that accompanied the movement. 

His hair fell in his face, and he pushed it away. Face screwed up, he puffed air out of his nose. Sucking on his tongue, as he ran his finger over the edge of his chipped tusk. Pain ached in his jaw, and the more he thought about the anvil that smashed his skull into several pieces, the more the headache that normally permeated in his mind thickened. 

_ Chat  _ was terribly quiet and had been for days. Hardly a mumble at the back of his mind, he brushed the rest of the strands of curls away from his face. There was a golden tinge to his lips at this point, anything the shit touched it stained. 

Pulling his hair back in methodic movements, practiced movements. Pinning it there with a few bobby pins and a tie. He steps away from the mirror, scrubbing at his face. The stones of the bathroom floor were cold even against his hooves. And the clack they made on the wood floor was only comforting when it didn’t make him want to scream. 

He can hear Tommy and Ranboo chattering away downstairs about something, and Techno blinked sluggishly. Phil’s voice was quieter, moving to the ladder that led to the attic, climbing up it, and hating the way his tail smacked against his legs. 

Ignoring his bed, and sliding down to half crawl half-crouch into his stupid, shitty dugout. 

_ Nest!  _

_ TechnoNest  _

_ TechnoRest!!  _

_ Hurt?  _

_ Weak, _

_ Hush, Cowards.  _

_ Soft! He’s gone soft!  _

Techno pushed his tongue against his teeth, and puffed air out of his nose, before relaxing into the mess of blankets and pillows. Curling his knees to his chest, resting his cheek on top of one. His tail curling around his wrist. 

_ Chat  _ hums around in his head, moving away from the dugout, Nest, whatever they want to call it. 

_ Monster.  _

He closes his eyes sharply and clenches his jaw. 

_ He looks like one now too  _

_ Monster.  _

_ Blood _

_ Withers, break them- they hurt you.  _

_ Break Their souls, sand them down _

_ Ruin them  _

_ Blood for the Blood God  _

_ Look what they did to us.  _

~~_ Monster, Monster, Mon  _ ~~

Techno curls his hands into his hair and snarls at empty air. Mind spinning, and his skull thumping, tears threatening to spill over. He chokes as he swallows too thick, the band instantly punishing him for his mistake.  _ Chat  _ rattles around in his head like a pack of hungry wolves. They always want  _ more.  _

“Teddy?” Phil’s voice floats through space, rises over  _ Chat  _ that instantly silences at the sound of their favorite person. He closes his eyes and presses tighter into a ball. 

The plans for the days to come burn under his skin, and he wishes things could be different. He doesn’t want to leave. 

The dragon hybrid brushes through the area head ducked down, and Techno holds down the growl that pulls at his lips and rattles around in his chest. He watched the other's feet, watched him sit on his empty bed. 

Techno grabs at the blanket underneath him. Feeling stupidly young, and weak. Feeling like a Piglin pup curled up under a desk in a random man's office while they figured out what to do with him. 

He blinks as  _ Chat  _ mumbling becomes unintelligible, loud but spilling over each other enough he can’t quite understand what they are saying. 

Feels like he’s 16 again, standing in fear in Simon's office. Hands curled around his middle, staring up at the admin, who’s shouting words at him he doesn’t understand. 

He feels like he’s 16, with a Dragon Hybrid fighting for his rights in a loud angry growl that he doesn’t understand. All he knows is that he’s being pulled out from under the desk by angry hands, and he doesn’t remember who he bites, but he bites someone. 

Phil’s laying on his side on the bed, and Techno’s tail uncurls its tight grip from around his wrist. Thumping Against the blankets around him. He notices that the other's wings twitch, and he makes a tiny grunt. Edging on a childish oink. 

Pale icy blue eyes glance at him, “We both know if you want affection I won’t fit under there.” Techno ignores  _ Chat’s  _ loud clang of soft. Over and over again. He growls but gathers a few blankets in shaky hands before climbing out from under the desk. 

He ignores the other's impish chuckle, face screwing up. “Well come on mate.” He chunks a blanket at Phil- well he tries too. Coordination suffering, everything suffering. He burns. Phil’s pulling him in before he can fully process it, and he’s tucked in his blanket and pulled against Phil’s side like an unruly pup. Like the way Phil treats Tommy. 

He buries his face in the fluff of the blankets, biting down on a cough when the band tightens for no reason. He knows his lips are tinged blue half the time, he can hardly breathe. 

“You’ve got us all worried Pup.” Phil’s voice was soft, and Techno kicked at the other's shin. They don’t do that. Worry about each other aloud. “Techno.” 

He shakes his head and firmly shuts his eyes. 

“Technoblade.” 

Phil’s got a grip on his face, and Techno snarls. Parting his lips and opening his eyes to glare at the man who gave him his first real him. He owes him everything yet nothing. “You have to Let go of this- this.  _ Technoblade Never dies.”  _

There’s always the sharp edge that comes with the phrase.  _ Chat  _ ready for a fight, and him holding on to the only strand of sanity he’s got left. “ _ No.”  _

His voice was rough, rougher than it normally was in response. It cracked on the edge of the single word. Sounding less like a command, a version of stop. And more like a plea.

Techno’s not sure which one it actually was supposed to be anyway. 

Phil’s growl in response hurts. “You’ve won already, you're just killing yourself at this point.” 

Techno can’t hold the laugh that rips past his lips, it burns his throat; the gold wrapped so tightly around his windpipe it was practically crushing it. He pushes Phil away, rolling off the bed to hit the floor, laughing the entire way. 

It’s so amusing. He’s already won. 

What a  _ Joke.  _

He laughs until he chokes, he can feel Phil staring at him with wide eyes; He laughs until his chest hurts more than his throat does. He laughs so hard there's a gold pool on the floor. He hacks and then laughs harder. 

He’s light-headed from the lack of oxygen, but it's all so Fucking  _ funny  _ to him. He turns to look at Phil through the tears in his eyes and bites out a shark-like grin at him. Barring his Tusks, and his top k9’s, there’s fear in the blue eyes that stare at him. 

“There’s no winning. I didn’t Win, I lost with extra steps. I lost the second they took my horse, I lost the _ second  _ I told Wilbur I’d help them.” he spits, and sucks in a deep breath, and basks in the pain it causes him. 

Flopping over on his back, hands fists at his sides. His legs tangled in blankets. He laughs, and then hiccups, his body craving air. Pink strands of hair in his face. Pale blue eyes are suddenly looking anywhere but his face and Techno giggled hysterically. “Look at me Phil.  _ Look at me.”  _ Eyes flickered to his face. 

There’s such a sad prevalence of Fear in his eyes, and it makes  _ Chat  _ croon. 

_ Show him!  _

_ Make them pay!  _

_ Weak, foolish _

_ Blood  _

_ Fear- does he fear us? No no no  _

~~_ Hush, fear is good, fear is healthy _ ~~

~~_ Dad Scared?  _ ~~

_ Look what they did to us _

_ Look what Dad did to us  _

_ Make them pay, make them hurt  _

_ Blood  _

_ Blood?  _

_ Blood for the Blood God  _

_ Blood for the Blood God.  _

He bites down on the urge to rip himself apart. And Just watches as Phil stares at him. “I’m- I am looking, I don’t.” Rage pools under his skin in ways it hadn’t since before he spent months planting potatoes, relearning patience, and humanity. “You aren’t  _ Looking.”  _ Phil’s face is heartbroken, and Techno is angry, he’s so damn angry. 

And he aches, everything hurts, and he’s dizzy from lack of air. He’s always Dizzy. 

“I’m  _ Looking!”  _ And Techno snarls snaps his teeth and rises shakily to his feet. Unaided, and fueled by anger. He lifts his chin and glares down at the dragon hybrid sitting on his bed, kicking the blankets. “I left, I said I was done. I was only staying because you Were here.” He chokes on the words, the golden piece around his throat so painful it hurts, even more, his head. 

Phil’s face was pale, and he feels so incredibly stupid for even thinking, that he was anything but a child in fighting pits. For thinking anyone actually saw him as a human. “I stayed! I said I was done! No more fighting, no more wars. I was here for  _ Phil.”  _ He coughs, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“They came here on false charges! Charges for a country that doesn’t exist  _ anymore! A country  _ that should have died with its founder.  _ I was falsely executed.  _ For Crimes that did not  _ exist.  _ You cannot, Stand there, and, and Tell me. I’ve Fucking  _ Won,  _ Philza Minecraft.  _ Because  _ it is very clear to me that I’ve done anything  _ But  _ Win. You cannot Look at me,  _ And say I am Victorious.”  _

Phil’s face was covered in tears, and Techno choked on air. Hands curled into fists, and his vision far fuzzier than it had been. He swayed on his feet,  _ Chat  _ A raving mass of anger; and his limbs felt like led.

He coughed, hacking hard enough to gag again, Bile and gold splattering the floor, and then he kept coughing. 

He bared his teeth, and his knees buckled. The band tightening too far. 

_ Technoblade was suffocated to death by [The Curse of the Totem]  _

_ \--- _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title would make more sense if I add a 5th chapter, which I probably won't be doing, to be honest. Maybe Technoblade going Feral to rip apart a country, who knows. But I quite like this ending really. 
> 
> Just so all of you don't panic, It's 3 canon deaths. He only loses one, do with the rest of that as you please. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated! I love them all so and do really try my best to respond even if I don't. I normally type something out and then hate it instantly. But just know I do love them all very much!!


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